


Who's A Good Boy??

by Rocketman23



Series: Detroit Become Human drabbles [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor struggles with his emotion tm, Fluffy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 02:24:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15329643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocketman23/pseuds/Rocketman23
Summary: Emotions are confusing.





	Who's A Good Boy??

It had been a hard day. A long, and hard day. Or as Hank would sometimes put it, it had been ‘one of those day’s’ and frankly Connor is none the happy about it. Which is bizarre because what should he care? He was an android performing a duty that he was specifically made to complete with the utmost efficiency and yet, here he was. Sat alone in Hanks kitchen, drumming his fingers against the wooden table, contemplating this foreign emotion that buzzed in his system.

Connor wasn’t too sure what to make of this emotion. It wasn’t anger or sadness. He certainly wasn’t happy but he didn’t understand why he felt as he did. 

The day had started normal enough, with Hank awaking at the latest possible hour and thus rushing about the household trying to complete his morning routine. Connor had made such routine a little easier by making coffee and taking care of any minor messes. He lived here too after all. And like any other morning Hank had grumbled a sleepy greeting and began his routine at a sluggard pace. So why then, when Hank had finally clothed himself for work and gave Sumo a goodbye hug, with the following cooing of “who’s a good boy?” was Connor suddenly so… emotional?

Because that was certainly what it felt like, a surge of unwanted emotion, though he couldn’t pin the exact emotion. He felt upset at Hanks enthused farewell to his dog which wasn’t an abnormal gesture for the lieutenant. So why? Hank had failed to notice the stern contemplation on Connor’s face as he shouted “get in the car already, or we’ll be late!”

This unfortunately, wouldn’t be the last confusing upset of the day.

The first four hours of the work day had gone well. The two had dropped into the office to review some information about a run-away homicidal android which stubbornly lacked in description and any witnesses. Connor had offered to grab Hank a coffee from the break room, knowing it would energise the man. From the way Hank was grumbling and muttering curses under his breath, Connor thought it best. 

Like the good android Connor was, he had made but two steps when an officer, named Medley, interrupted his pace with a wave of his hands and a question of would Connor be able to grab him a coffee too. Connor had obliged to the request and returned moments later with a steaming cup of black liquid.

The weirdest part was that when he handed over the beverage, officer Medley went straight back to work. Connor had clearly stood there a while too long as Medley told him to leave and let him get back to his work. Surprise had quirked Connors eyebrows and not at the officers dismissive tone. Connor was used to being treated like a ‘thing’, a machine made for a purpose and controlled by an authoritive human figure but being partnered with Hank had opened Connors eyes somewhat. Wasn’t it customary to thank someone for doing something for you? Especially when it wasn’t within your purpose to do so? 

It rubbed Connor as odd as he sat stiffly down next to Hank and handed him his coffee mechanically. When hank had asked what was wrong, with a side eyed gaze, Connor replied “nothing, I am fine”. He hoped he didn’t add too much infliction to the words as Hanks eyebrows knitted in thought at his partner’s sudden stiffness. 

He’d even tried to simulate the same action as Hank had done to Sumo earlier that morning, placing a cautious hand on top of his head and repeating the cooed voice “who’s a good boy”. It had felt wrong and certainly Connor felt no different than moments before, whereas Sumo seemed overjoyed at the words.

It didn’t end there either. Connor thought that maybe the officer was busy with his work and had simply forgotten to thank the android due to the stress of his work but the thought quickly dwindled. All throughout the day Connor would lend some help to the other Officers and Detectives in the building and maybe, just maybe, he would receive a thank you. Or even a simple inclination of the head to show that they were pleased with him, or a pat to his back like Hank did sometimes.

By the end of the day Connor had surmised that the whole building was incapable of a simple ‘thank you’ and for reasons unknown, it bit into Connor relentless of the logic he told himself. 

So here he finds himself, drumming his fingers against the table and waiting for Hank to finish in the bathroom. Sumo trots over to the mulling android and rests his great head on Connors leg. Sullen as he feels, Connor can’t help but ruffles the fur on Sumo’s head, earning a small gruff of appreciation from the Saint Bernard. 

What was it to be a good boy? Connor had suddenly thought. It seemed by being a good boy you got attention and affection. You were praised for a good job. Why did Hank praise Sumo for a good job? Sumo didn’t even have a job. Especially not as important as his.

Was Connor a good boy then? For he knew he did a good job, Hank would tell him so but never did he call him “good boy”. He would pat only his back and Connor felt a little slighted that Hank would not pat his head in the same manner as Sumo’s.

Was it because Hank held Sumo in higher regard than Connor? If so, then that meant Connor wasn’t a good boy and suddenly he floundered for what he was to Hank.

He didn’t need to think long as Hank entered the living room and switched the t.v. on, a simple question of “what do you wanna watch? I hear there’s a good film on tonight. Got androids in it” Hand scratching at his stubbly beard as he searches through the t.v., not noticing Connors puzzlement.

“Hank, am I good boy?” Connor suddenly asks, hand rubbing one of sumo’s ears as his eyes pierce the startled lieutenant.

“What?? What kind of a question is that?” Hank asks, clearly befuddled. 

“Am I a good boy?” Connor states again, a little slower this time so Hank can catch what he’s saying. Hank is silent as his eyes narrow in suspicion. Connor adds in a hasty “like Sumo, you always tell him he’s a ‘good boy’ but he doesn’t even work” and at this Hanks laughs.

“Oh my god Connor, are you jealous of my fucking dog?” Hank wheezes out as he laughs, hand clutching at his stomach.

“Jealous? I’m-I’m not jealous…” Connor states with a worried glance to the dog. Surely he’s not jealous of Sumo? 

“Why the hell would you ask me that?” Hank breathes out, his laughter running dry for the moment as he stands before Connor, mirth lighting up his eyes as he ruffles Sumo’s fur.

“because, you always tell Sumo ‘good boy’ or that he’s ‘done such a good job’ but whenever I do something, I don’t receive a single thanks” Connor flusters for a little bit. Emotions were so confusing.

“Ohhh, I get it. You wanna be praised?” at Connors slight frown a thought pops in Hanks mind. “Who’s a good boy?” Hank cheerily states when patting the top of Connors neatly placed hair. He can’t lie, he rather liked the feeling of having his hair patted and simultaneously be told that he’s good.

“I am” Connor righteously states and though Hank removes his hand and his face loses some of it’s mirth he replies “fucking android” and stalks over to the couch. Connor places a gentle hand on top of his head and a small smile forms on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> heya!  
> if ya liked this fic please leave a kudos and comment below!


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